Driving him crazy with the need to punish me (MF) (Fiction)

My husband is a powerful man. The way Adam moves through the world like he owns it, analyzing situations, finding their weak points and reshaping them to his advantage truly inspires me. I’ve never met another person so in control of his life. Usually when it comes to our relationship I’m happy to give him that control, no reshaping required—that all happened within the first year of our relationship.

The moment he met me my training began. Even before I agreed to go out with him he was subtly reshaping me, his comments about how I dress encouraging me to take my look in a specific direction, reinforcing certain behaviors with compliments and responding to the actions he didn’t like with a disapproving look. Then, when we finally started dating a more explicit form of training began. He took his time teaching me all the things he liked, both in the bedroom and out, and in the process he introduced me to all the things I never knew that *I* liked.

With him I have become a better woman—a happier, more sensual, carefree, and satisfied woman. Most days there is nothing I want more than to be his good girl, to please him whenever and however he wants, but sometimes my husband likes a bit of a challenge and today I’m going to give it to him.

We’re getting ready to go to a company picnic—Adam works for one of those forward thinking start-ups that places value on team unity and given his leadership position we’re practically obligated to attend every event. Usually neither of us minds, he genuinely likes most of the people he works with and I like seeing him in his element. Today, however, I plan to make the whole event torture for him.

As we’re about to leave I tell him that I’m just going to use the bathroom one last time. I rush off to our bedroom and grab what I’m looking for—a little stainless steel butt plug with a pale pink jewel at its base. The same one he made wear for hours on end when he was first preparing my virgin ass to take him. He’s put many more things in my back entrance since then but this first toy holds a special erotic value for us both.

When I meet him back at the door, the toy safely hidden away in my purse, he raises an eyebrow at me. He’s clearly a little suspicious but with no clear reason why he doesn’t bother to comment. When Adam makes an accusation he always has something to back it up.

As I slip into the passenger side of his car I decide not to start my teasing until we arrive. Instead I admire his profile as he changes gears and have him give me updates on all the people we’re going to be seeing. He talks easily about his coworkers and their families—giving details that no one would remember about people they weren’t invested in—and for a moment I almost feel bad that my plan will keep him from being able to focus on them. As we pull up to the park though, my naughty side returns.

We’re both dressed semi casually for the warm fall day—him in dressy jeans and a shirt with the collar unbuttoned, sleeves rolled up to reveal his strong forearms. I’m wearing a flowy skirt that kisses my knees, thigh high socks and a sheer pink blouse over a cami. It looked a little conservative but flirty when we left the house but as I step out of the car I pull the skirt higher up my waist, leaving a band of bare skin visible between my thigh highs and skirt. Then I pull the cami down a little to reveal the top swells of my breasts taking the look from flirty to downright teasing.

Meeting at the front of the car, Adam reaches out to take my hand in his. When he glances back at me I feel his gaze sharpen at the change but he doesn’t have the chance to say anything before we’re greeted by Rafi from the marketing department. From what Adam told me on the drive over his aunt was recently declared cancer free after going through chemo for nearly six months.

Adam and he exchange a quick “man hug” and when Rafi turns to me I smile and decide to give him a decidedly less manly hug.

“Rafi! Adam told me your Aunt is cancer free, I’m so happy for you!”

Usually when I hug men it’s with a platonic one armed hug but not this time. This time I hug my husband’s friend with both arms around his torso, my cheek pressing against his shoulder, my breasts smushed up against his front.

“Oh! Thank you,” Rafi says, one arm coming to rest very hesitantly over my back. I can only imagine the look my husband is giving him right now. “We’re all relieved that she’s made a full recovery.”

When he removes his arm I step back and smile up at him for a second before backing into my husband’s chest. He wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me tight against him. I take the opportunity to wiggle my ass against him subtly, to which he responds by giving me a light pinch to the side. I look up at him innocently.

In the next couple minutes I greet everyone who says hi with that same warm hug, always stepping back into my man’s arms afterwards. When I step back into him after hugging John—a guy who Adam runs with during his lunch break—who held me a little too tight and for a little too long I can tell I’ve successfully teased Adam’s possessive side out because as he pulls me into his chest he leans down to whisper in my ear.

*“Behave.”*

He gathers my long hair over one shoulder and tugs on it gently, pulling my head to the side and exposing my neck. He kisses me there before capturing a bit of flesh between his teeth and biting down just enough to make me squirm right in front of his work buddy. I struggle not to moan at this public claiming while John looks on uncomfortably. When the next person comes to say hello Adam doesn’t give me a chance to hug him, keeping his arms securely around me.

With this stage of my teasing over I suggest that we should get some food before it’s gone and Adam agrees. We make our way over to the large spread of lunch foods, fruits, desserts, and drinks provided by the company and I load my plate with a bagel and a leafy green salad. Then I grab a bottle of white salad dressing, not even bothering to read the label, and drizzle it over the greens. When my husband looks over I dip my pinkie into the dressing, bring it up to my mouth, and suck the dressing off the tip.

*Mmmm.* The dressing lacks taste but the look on my husband’s face is perfect. If we weren’t in public right now he would have me on my knees in seconds. Since we are in public though, in front of people he respects no less, he just puts his hand on the small of my back and guides me over to where lawn chairs have been set up in a circle, telling me to sit.

Grumpily, I sit in my own chair, two to the right of him as there were no two empty chairs left side by side when we arrived. As more of the group trickles over though, it becomes obvious that we’re short a couple chairs so I seize the opportunity.

“Here,” I say to a woman who’s just walked up, “you can have my chair. I don’t mind sitting on the ground anyways.”

Not waiting for a response, I walk three steps over to my husband, beginning to lower myself to my knees with my back to him. It’s a familiar position for us—sometimes when he has work to do in the home office and I miss his presence I come sit on the floor between his legs or with my head on his knee. Usually that’s a good enough way to get his attention without being a bad girl and earns me his cock inside my mouth within ten minutes. Before I can fully assume that position now though I’m halted by his hand around my upper arm.

“The ground is dirty Sweetheart,” he says indulgently, “you can share my seat.”

Gladly I settle into his lap, wriggling around under the guise of finding a comfortable position only for an arm clamps down over my thighs. “*I thought I told you to behave,*” he whispers in a much less indulgent tone. I look up into his stern eyes. Then I part my thighs a little and very deliberately grind down against him.

“Oh Darling, you are getting such a spanking when we get home.”

I can’t help but smile as I feel his hardness prod me from behind. After giving him a quick peck on the cheek I turn to the woman in the seat I just gave up, Martha, and start up a friendly conversation.

After a while Martha says that she needs to go to the bathroom and I get up with her.

“I’ll go with you,” I say, and bend down to grab my purse where I left it on the ground, giving my husband a view of the bottom curve of my cheeks where the skirt rode up. I reach inside the purse, feeling for the butt plug I stashed here and straighten. I hold the flared end between my index and middle finger and as I walk by I flash the jeweled base at him.

Walking up to the park’s service building it becomes clear that the bathroom is one stall only so I let Martha go first. When it’s my turn I lock the door and walk over to the sink, happy to find that the bathroom is well cleaned. Bracing my arms on the sink I lean forward, arching into a position that leaves my ass naturally a bit more open and exposed. I flip my skirt up and push my panties down to my knees, then I take the plug out of my bag.

Having forgotten to bring lube I drag the cool metal between my pussy lips, biting my tongue when the low temperature sends a thrill through my clit. I’m wet from teasing my husband and from the thrill of what’s to come when we get home so I use my own juices to lube up the little toy. Then I guide it to my back entrance and begin to push, using little back and forth motions to stretch myself just a little bit further, each minute advancement sending a shaky wave through me eliciting little whimpers from the back of my throat.

In the mirror above the sink my face looks flushed and dewy with a fine sheen of perspiration from the effort. The ring around the plug feels like it’s on fire with how tightly I’m stretched until finally, *finally*, it’s past the widest point and my passage allows the last little bit to slide in easily. Just the little pink gem is left winking out from between my cheeks.

Panting, I lean my forehead on my arms, trying to recover from the intense anal fucking I just gave myself while at the same trying to adjust to the awareness radiating outward from the foreign object inside me. When I’ve calmed down to the point where I’m able to stand I let my skirt fall back down and pull my panties up, the string of my thong skewed to one side to accommodate the plug. I grab a bit of tissue paper and wipe off my face before walking as steadily as I can over to the exit.

The minute I unlock it the door swings open and a strong hand wraps around my wrist. I stumble twice as Adam drags me behind a tree, caging me in with his arms on either side of my head and his hardness pressed against my belly.

“You have been a bad, bad girl,” he says, “driving me crazy, playing with yourself without me,” and I know he’s really pissed because that vein at his temple is throbbing.

“When we get home I’m going to take you over my knee, lift that little skirt up, and spank you. I’m going to make you count each strike, one for every man you made hard tonight with the way you were dressed and with those goddamn hugs you gave them. Maybe when your ass is glowing bright red you’ll remember who owns you, or do I need to remind you of that too?”

“No Adam,” I say, my voice a breathy whisper. “I belong to you, mind and body.”

“Don’t think that being sweet now is going to save you from your punishment Darling. I hope that little plug got your ass nice and ready because once you’ve taken your spankings like a good girl I’m going to fuck your little ass so hard you won’t be able to see straight.”

*I can’t wait.*

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/l8ywh3/driving_him_crazy_with_the_need_to_punish_me_mf